


Smell The Colors in Your Skin

by curiumKingyo



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fluff, Hermann is a synesthete, I have no excuse for this..., Kinda AU?, M/M, Science Boyfriends, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann has a neurological condition known as synesthesia. That means stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway, or: his brain mixes the signals and interpret one stimulus with more than one sense.</p>
<p>In his case, he mixes colors (visual stimulus) and smell (olfative stimulus).</p>
<p>Since I'm not a synesthete myself I don't know how it does work, but I wanted it to be poetic and perhaps I might have exaggerated things a bit. I hope it pleases you guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Almost nobody knew about your neurological condition. Other than your parents and siblings and some doctors who studied your case when you were younger, nobody knew of it really. Sometimes you wonder if people knew it, whould they understand you better? Perhaps not understand, but it would cvertainly explain most of your habits and preferences.

For example, you don't use those "old man clothes" because you like them. It is because their colors have mostly neutral scents to you. The beiges and browns, since they were close to regular skin colors, have just a faint smell. Mostly the smell of clean things, sometimes wooden, sometimes fresher like recently cut grass. Your parka, particularly, smell like rain; the smell of earth and grass hit by the first drops of rain; and this is one of the reasons you like it so much.

The synesthesia also explains why you use blackboards and chalk instead of whiteboards and markers. Much like your parka, the blackboards smell a bit like fresh rain, and are welcoming in their dark hue that doesn't contrast with the background. Also the chalk, being a matte white, doesn't smell of anything in particular, but the actual smell of chalk. On the other hand, the shiny white of the whiteboards smell of artificial cleaning products; strong and pungent. It reminds you so much of the hospital where they tried to repair your knee after the accident. And remembering the hospital means remembering all the blood soaking your clothes. The metallic smell of it mixing with the burned wood scent of that deep shade of red dripping everywhere. Even now, everything remotely blood-colored makes you sick.

People, specially in the Shatterdome where everyone dresses similar colors, smell basically the same to you. The colors of skin, the shades of hair and the mostly blue and gray uniforms don't had any particularly strong smell. Or perhaps you were just too used to them to notice anymore. Some people, however, had a particular scent due to the colors they wore.

Hercules Hansen had a faint and undefined spicy scent, mostly because of his orange-ish hair and beard. The scent got considerably weaker when he shaved. Chuck had a similar smell, but much fainter. Mako Mori's vivid blue highlights gave her a sweet scent, most blue shades doesn't affect you but her hair does, as does the light and bright blue of the plasma cannons some Jaegers had. The Wei Tang triplets themselves were nothing out of the ordinary-person-scent, except that they were always wearing dark red clothes, the shade a bit too close to blood, which easily explains why you're always uneasy near them. Some blond people, with really light hair, smelled a bit of chalk; but you believed this was a conscious relation not part of your synesthesia. Either way, the Kaidonovslys had that smell. Sasha Kaidonovsky, particularly, used vivid red lipstick which gave her a hint of a leathery smell; like an old book or something. And you still think it is the greatest irony in the world that Sasha Kaidonovsky had the smell of a library.

If people knew of your condition, perhaps they would understand your relation with Newton Geiszler. Well, if Newton knew of it perhaps _he_ would understand it better. When you first started working together, all that bothered you was his screechy voice and manic behavior. He always liked to wear blessedly white shirts and dark pants, mostly scentless, the only thing particularly annoying was his tie. But that was because it was stupid looking and not because of any smell. Yet, the moment his tattoos began to show, your problems started. Of course he'd chose the brightest, most flashy colors available, not to mention the subject they depicted. When Yamarashi finally showed up on his forearm the sick smell of that shade of green, like an old sponge someone forgot in the sink, overcame your senses. The bright yellow and red around it counter-balanced that disgusting smell, the warmer colors more fresh and clean. It only got worse after it. The addition of Knifehead only brought more red and yellow and sweet smelling blue.

It was all frustrating and made you a bit angrier than normal, but it was still relatively easy to avoid the tattoos. You could always stand in a strategic position that hid his arms, or you could focus on his face or some vague point over his head or shoulder. It turned into a minor problem when you realised you had more than friendly feelings for him. Those unrequired feelings made it difficult to turn your eyes away from him, specially from his arms and hands that you now wanted so badly all over your body. Yet, you were nothing if not absolutely in control of your actions and you managed to go on with your partnership.

It turned into a real problem when he gently cupped your face and pressed a soft kiss to your lips...


	2. Chapter 2

Your eyes get ridiculously big when he kisses you, in an almost cartoon character way. But just for a second. They slide shut as your mouth moves to reciprocate his kiss. With your eyes closed, no colors bother you so you can inhale his real scent. It is a bit of the soap everyone in the Shatterdome use, but itis also the scent of his deodorant and of the product he uses in his hair. And there is the pure smell of his skin. The mix of hormones, pheromones, clean sweat and just _skin_ that actually overwhelmed any other smell and causes your head to spin.

Your lips are moving slowly against each other, one of his hands gently caressing your cheek while the other find a good place to rest in your hip. Your own arms, that were hanging lifelessly by your sides, spring to life and wrap across his back, one hand deliberatedly hiding in his messy hair. His body is almost unbearably solid against yours, after so much time living this scene in your ( _very_ vivid) imagination, having him there is quite overwhelming. Feeling his breath against your face, you open your mouth and gently slide your tongue across his still closed lips.

"Whoa!" He exclaims, pulling away only a bit and laughing breathlessly. "We... we should probably take this somewhere else?" You let go of the breath you weren't aware you were holding. His sudden retreat caused a tiny surge of panic to rise in your chest, but his hand is still cradling your face and now you feel the one holding your hip give it a light squeeze. You open your eyes and focus on his face, his lovely face now covered in a delicate shade of pink.

You inhale. The sense of smell caused by your synesthesia doesn't actually depends of your nose, since it is a response created directly in your brain. Taking a deep breath so close to him, however, does makes you smell the soft amber smell of his blush. The both of you share a smile and you slowly untangle yourself from his arms. You lead him down the halls and into your room, eyes focused in the dark gray floor but your hand firmly holding his.

When you are finally closed and locked in the safety of your room, he takes the lead and brings you to the edge of your bed. He makes you sit and crowds into your personal space like he belonged there. He then kisses you briefly before kneeling down to take off your shoes ans socks. You smile at him as he stands up and begin to pull your sweater off your pants and up your torso. You pull away a bit to allow him to take your sweater off and he uses this opportunity to gently guide you down and make you lie on the bed. He puts your hands up and silently asks you to keep them there, you nod and promptly grip the bedsheets in a sort of promisse that you'll do as he asked.

He begins to unbutton your shirt, his fingers pointedly touching your skin as he does so. When your chest is completely exposed he kisses your breast bone and nuzzles there a bit before returning to his mission. He then proceds to get rid of your pants, and you appreciate a lot the feeling of his warm hands sliding down your legs, pulling the fabric away from your skin. As you lay there, only your briefs still clinging to your body, you feel so vulnerable and yet so protected... His eyes are fixed on you with such intensity it makes it difficult to breath. He is blushing and his lips are red from kissing and that color makes the whole scene smell a bit of amber and leather.

Your heart is already beating ridiculously fast and he doesn't make things any better by slowly unbuttoning his own shirt. His eyes never leave yours and you realise he is slightly swaying his hips as if dancing to some song only he could listen. He pulls his tie off without untying it and throws it somewhere near your bookshelf. His shirt slips off his shoulders and your senses are overwhelmed by his bare chest and arms. You never considered how far his tattoos went, now you know the answer and it makes your head spin. You can't even name all those Kaiju, you just know that the waves of yellow crush in citric smells against the orange and red harbors of leathery scent. The giant Kaiju in the center of his chest makes you dizzy, reeking like some old, dirty sponge in the middle of that ocean of incongruent smells.

You shiver and close your eyes, hands twisting in the bedsheets. He chuckles and you feel rather than see as he squirms out of his jeans. He leans over and kisses your jaw line and you twist until your lips find his. He is smiling while kissing you and one of his hands slides down your chest and press against your erection. He hums when he realises just how hard you are and you buck your hips against his hand, demanding more friction. He not only obliges but actually slips his hand under your briefs getting a hold of your cock and circling his thumb around the slick head. A broken moan escapes your throat and your hands finally leave the bedsheets to tangle in his hair. You arch up against him, your hips rolling so that your cock gently slides his grip.

"Herman..." The word isn't quite voiced, more likely, it is just a form his breath took. "What do you want?" It isn't a cocky or provocative question, there is an undertone of doubt in his breathy voice. His face is pressed against yours, your eyelashes brushing his cheek and his lips lightly touching yours.

"You! You, now, please..." Somehow you manage to speak and the desperation in your words spur something inside him because suddenly there is no more doubt or hesitance in his voice and actions.

"Do you have lube here?" He punctuates the question with a particularly pleasant pump to your aching cock. You look up at him, the color of his eyes indecipherable, equal parts green and blue and perhaps it was because of the closeness but that color did smell _just like him_. Eyes never leaving his face, you reach behind you for the lube in the nightstand.

He quickly takes it from you and kneels between your legs. You prop up on the pillow and your eyes go wide when you see that the tattoos cover not only his arms and chest but also a good part of his legs. More waves of yellow and orange and more Kaiju you don't recognize but the smell is the same. Then you notice he actually has a Jaeger on his upper thigh: Romeo Blue. You touch it delicately, the muted blue a single spot of tranquility in the revolving ocean of bright colors and scents.

"I never knew you had this too." You say, caressing the tattoo with reverent fingers, eyes focused on the way the light played in the muscles of his leg and changed the color of the Jaeger.

"I may be a kaiju grrrroupie." He says smiling. "But I dig the giant robots quite a lot too! Specially the first ones..." The dreamy smile lasts only for a second on his face before turning predatory. He looks down at you and put the lube by his side before hooking his fingers in the rim of your underwear. He doesn't pull it off right away, enjoying the way your turn and squirm trying to get rid of that last article of clothing. Soon he takes pity on you and pull it off, taking his own briefs off before kneeling between your legs again.

His cock is just as hard as your own, jutting amidst a nest of dark brown pubic hair. You salivate at the sight, much like his own body, his cock is short and stout. It is already shinning with pre-come and colored a rich shade of red. Your head spin, the deep musky smell of his arousal mixing with the citric scent of his bright tattoos. You know the only way to scape that onslaught is to close your eyes, but you don't want to miss a second of it. You'd never forgive yourself if you missed the way his face scrunches up in concentration as he lubes his fingers up and slide the first one inside your willing body. You'd rather die than miss how his teeth keep worrying his bottom lip and how his eyes widen when his second finger effortlessly enters you.

Like the science man he is, Newton is delicate but also dedicated to the task at hand. He used enough lube that his digits slide gracefully in and out of your body but not so much that the little burn of pleasure is erased. You are shamelessly rutting against his fingers, forcing them down deeper and harder, when he decides he is done with preparations. You agree with all your heart.

He takes your weak leg, kisses the scarred knee and puts it loosely around his hips. The other leg he bends up, pressing it down your chest and you feel disturbingly exposed in such a position but before you open your mouth to say something about it, he slowly slides inside you. You are all lubed and prepared, but you still feel it burn as it breaches you. The good kind of burn, the fire that you would gladly allow to consumme your whole body and soul. It takes a while but finally he is entirely inside you, his chest pressing your bent leg down your body, his face slack and open and so close to yours...

You force your neck up and capture his mouth in a kiss that lasts for the first few slow thrusts. When he starts to move more forcefully the kiss is lost amongst breathy moans and bitten lips. Soon you are being pulled and pushed against the bed in a frenetic rhythm, your bad leg miraculously clinging to the sweaty skin of his hips as he pistons in and out of your body. You feel his wild movements both inside and all around you. His breath is a constant whisper against your sweat drenched skin, his hands a steady force against your hips. The motion causes his tattoos to shift and change, revolving that sea of stimulus in which you are drowning. Color. Smell. Taste. Heat. He is a force of nature in the small space between your thighs and just like the Wall stood no chance against the Kaiju so you are completely powerless to resist him.

His mouth is half opened and his tongue keep coming out to moisten his lips. Red against white teeth, against red lips. The smell of amber and chalk hit you as you stare at his mouth. His eyes are screwed shut thightly and you wish you could look into that beautiful color again. As if reading your mind, he opens his eyes and stare down at you with crushing intensity as his hips stutter and you feel his cock twitch as he empties himself inside you. A broken moan shakes the air between you as he does so, slowly stopping his movements altogether.

He doesn't pull away but he slips your leg off his shoulder so he can rest against your chest, his feverish skin against your frantic heartbeat. He manages to scoot even closer, pushing his cock deeper inside you. You feel the come there sloshing around and it may be your imagination but you feel some of it trickle out and drizzle between your legs. He kisses your chest and navel and his hands trail down your sides caressing each sensitive spot on their wake.

You stare at the ceiling as he takes you in his hands, setting a fast pace from the begining. It doesn't even seem like the first time he's doing it; he handles you with care and familiarity it feels like you've been lovers for a long while. He keeps pumping you and begins to kiss and nip at your nipples, gently turning them between his teeth and making them hard and sensitive. You know you won't last too much. Not with his softening cock still moving inside you and his hands doing everything right over your cock. But there is one last thing you need to finally unleash your orgasm.

Burying your hands on his messy hair you tug him up, forcing his eyes to meet yours. And there it is. That mysteryous color that is nothing if not _Newton Geiszler_. The smell of sex and sweat permeates the air but it is the addictive scent of that beautiful color that trips you into oblivion. You arch into him, mouth wide open in a silent scream as he pumps every last drop of come out of you. Finally he pulls away completely and this time you are certain there is come trickling down your thighs. Surprisingly, you don't care. He lies by your side and pulls you up so that you're resting against his chest. For a moment you are engulfed by that sea of monsters and citric waves but when you finally close your eyes you submerge in a world of warmth and softness.

His heart beat the only sound reaching you in this sphere of peace you find in the thight circle of his arms. Your closed eyes allow the smell of his skin - sweaty and splattered with come as it is - to fill your senses. Now, when you close your eyes, it is not darkness that you see, but that lovely color that is all his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to God I never realised how difficult it is to describe smell T_T  
> Now I understand why perfume advertisements are so incredibly confusing...

**Author's Note:**

> More about synesthesia :D  
> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synesthesia


End file.
